Page 92 of The Forsaken Heir
“I thought you guys weren’t close?” Vincent whispered, looking somewhat bored by the whole thing.
Rasp nudged his arm. “Duh, bro, he’s lying. Now be quiet.”
“Oh.” Vince frowned.
“When the true nature of this creature is revealed toall,then it will be easy to understand the duplicity under which the dragons have operated. All will see that they, in their hatred of us and our kind, murdered Brielle Marie Laurent in cold blood.” Bastien let out a small, disgusted snort. “Perhaps they even feasted on her dead body.”
This time, my hand wasn’t enough to keep Aurelius calm. He leapt to his feet, and stabbed a finger toward my brother.
“You will watch your mouth, wolf. Do you hear me? Truce or not, youwillwatch how andwhatyou speak of.”
Bastien appeared less intimidated than he did amused. He swept a hand toward Aurelius and addressed the wolf shifters again.
“You see the violence that always leaches out of their kind? I only hope my dear sister died quickly and painlessly.”
Aurelius growled, a low rumbling noise of anger and rage, but he retook his seat. The other wolves glared at him, looking upon our contingent as if we were wild animals.
“To ensure impartiality, the Hikshiltribe has seen fit to send their greatest and most respected shaman to facilitate the ceremony,” Bastien added and gestured to the door.
Sasha stepped in, leading a group of five Hikshil. The fae all appeared to be of similar age, and unlike the European fae, had darker skin and black hair. At the rear, the final member of their party strode in. From his appearance, he could have been in his late fifties, but given fae life spans, he was probably closer to three hundred.
The way the other fae bowed their heads to him as he passed, showed that he was a truly honored member of their tribe. Though they wore modern American clothing, there was a magical aura around them that I could sense even from where we sat.
The older man strode toward the two chairs at the center of the room and turned his dark brown eyes upon me, pinning me in place with his gaze.
“Come forward, my dear woman. It is time,” he intoned in a deep, sonorous rumble.
Standing on shaky legs, I tried not to look at my family or the other wolves. Instead, I kept my eyes on the fae man before me. I hadn’t believed anyone could be as intimidating as Aurelius, but I was wrong. This man exuded power and knowledge.
As I neared, he extended a hand. Swallowing hard, I placed my palm on his. I had anticipated his hand to be rough and calloused, but instead it was smooth and soft, almost like the hand of a doctor.
“Have a seat,” he said.
I sat and wiped my sweaty palms on my pants. Having everyone’s eyes on me like this was even worse than when I’d stood on the dais at the gala.
“My name is Jolon,” the man said, giving me a fatherly smile. “Do you know the ceremony of the shadowed soul?”
Shaking my head, I had to clear my throat before I could speak. “Uh, no, sir.”
“I thought not. It is used in our culture to show one their true being. Sometimes, people have a hard time finding their true selves. We use it to help the young fae among us to discover the path they need to lead a fulfilling life. For these situations,” he added, waving a hand around the room, but never taking his eyes from mine, “it can be used as a sort of truth serum. I will walk the path with you and discover who you truly are. There is no hiding and no lying in this ceremony. Do you still wish to proceed?”
I threw a look at Aurelius, who nodded slightly. When I glanced toward my family, Bastien looked upon us with haughty glee. The excitement on his face had me gritting my teeth in rage. If he was sure I wasn’t who I said I was, then by God, I’d prove it.
“I’m ready,” I said.
“Very well.” Jolon removed a small leather pouch from his front pocket and held it up for all to see. “This powder is made from the ground shards of ancient, petrified trees in the old forests of our tribal lands. It holds the power of the ages, the roots having been fed by the wellsprings in eons long gone. A rare and special magical fungus that grows on a single mountaintop near our homeland is mixed in along with it. The powder within has been bound with magic, soaked in enchanted potions.” He shook the pouch slightly. “This is powerful, mind-altering magic. Are you prepared? I warn you, this will seem quite strange to one not accustomed to our practices.”
“It’s all right. I’m ready,” I said.
He nodded slowly, then poured a handful of the black powder into the palm of his hand.
“Prepare yourself, young one,” he said.
Before I could respond, he blew onto his palm, sending a cloud of the fine dust right into my face. I flinched backward in surprise and sucked in a breath before I had time to think. Fire coursed down my throat and into my lungs. Panic filled me. Was this a trap? Had my brother somehow swayed the man over to his side and instructed him to blow poison in my face?
“The next bit will be somewhat strange,” Jolon said, but I could barely register what he was saying because I felt like I was falling backward, tipping off some sort of precipice.
I fell and fell, going backward. Just when I thought I would hit the floor, I only continued to fall, spinning like a tire rolling downhill. Around me, the conservatory vanished, and all I could see was a black starlit sky. It was as though I was spinning in space itself. The panic tightened in my chest, and my lungs struggled to get air.
